Sway
by ink and ashes
Summary: I can hear the sound of violins. Michael, Liz, and a dance that's just a dance.


**SWAY**

I break away from Kyle with a small grin, watching as he walks towards Isabel. I have to bite back a giggle at the sight of my short ex-boyfriend asking the statuesque beauty for a dance. I watch for a moment longer before turning back to the lonely table, but I'm pleasantly surprised when I find two people still sitting there.

Alex is taking a break to eat and Michael is lounging in his seat, watching as his girlfriend readies herself to play another set. The crowd had gotten a kick out of 'Margarita Salt' and I'm sure 'Doctor Love' is more than a little proud that his gorgeous songstress is in the spotlight. Maria is still up on stage, still beautiful, still amazingly composed in a room full of people eagerly waiting to hear her heavenly voice. Max and Tess are curiously absent and I know that they are probably dancing, but I do not want to verify my suspicions; it's still too soon, too raw, and I cannot bear to watch them stand so close.

I ease into my seat with a touch of awkwardness as the first chord of the song plays.

_When marimba rhythms start to play  
Dance with me, _

_Make me sway_

Ah, Maria. One day, she will take the world by storm. I have every confidence that she will achieve her every dream and I know that Michael will do everything he can to make her wishes come true. Tonight has shown me many things, a lot of them painful, but I am happy for her.

Perhaps, one day, I'll find happiness, too.

_Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore  
Hold me close, _

_Sway me more_

An impulse overtakes me and I glance over at Alex, who's deeply engrossed in his meal. I've already shared a dance with him and he's obviously too preoccupied. I smile at him, though he's not paying attention to me.

Still, I want to dance. If I remain idle, I will wallow in my sorrows and utterly destroy any chance of enjoying this brief, agonizing getaway.

My eyes stray over to Michael, who is watching Maria with an expression I've never seen on his angular face; it is soft, gentle, caring. Is this what Maria sees? Is this why the unapproachable alien is so irresistible to her when I've only ever seen cool neutrality? It takes me by surprise and I have to swallow the knot in my throat.

Max used to look at _me _like that.

_Like a flower bending in the breeze  
Bend with me, _

_Sway with ease_

I'm nervous and unsure, but I'll never know if I don't ask.

"Michael," I call, and he jerks a little, caught off his guard.

That makes two of us.

He frowns at me, all softness gone, and I wonder what the hell I was thinking.

I meet his stare as best as I am able and plow ahead. "Would you like to dance?"

_When we dance you have a way with me  
Stay with me, _

_Sway with me_

Whether it's my hopeful smile or the sadness lurking behind it, I'm not sure. He looks at me for a long while, as if gauging whether or not I'm trying to trick him. It's mildly insulting how much he hesitates to be around me. I am not so awful a person, am I?

I close my eyes, slumping in my chair with a sigh. I know a rejection when I see one. "You don't have to if you—"

"Sure," he interrupts, and I don't know which one of us is more shocked by his answer.

_Other dancers may be on the floor  
Dear, but my eyes will see only you_

Michael is _huge_.

Granted, my diminutive stature may exaggerate his, but when we stand a foot apart on the dance floor, staring at each other like two strangers that have no idea how they ended up in this situation, it hits me just how tall he is. His hands are large, swallowing my own, and his chest is massive. I have to crane my neck all the way back just to meet his eyes. A stray thought wanders in, unbidden, and I blush; if I tried to kiss him, I'd have to stand on the tips of my toes just to reach him.

_Bad Liz_, I chide myself and concentrate on the sound of my friend's voice. I do not want to step on his feet.

_Only you have that magic technique  
When we sway I go weak  
_

Maria had once told me that Michael is an awful dancer. Two left feet, she'd said.

She's either lied to me or she's been grossly misinformed.

It's nothing fancy. There's no dramatic flair to his movements and while he's a little tense, I enjoy the easy sway we've got going. It's smooth and rhythmic, like a metronome. I am floating, weightless, unhindered by the weight of this world. My feet hardly move and before I can think better of it, my hand slips onto his shoulder—or as close as I can comfortably get. His palm slides down to my waist, his giant paw encompassing the entirety of my lower back. I can feel him relax in slow increments, lowering his guard, and the wide gap closes between us.

He is sturdy and warm. A sense of security creeps up on me, lulling me. My hand moves to rest on his bicep, my cheek on his shoulder.

I'd forgotten how nice it is to be held.

_I can hear the sounds of violins  
Long before it begins_

Max, from the future, had danced with me like this, once. One last gift, a bittersweet goodbye before he'd disappeared, taking my hopes and dreams with him.

My Max had held me tonight, but it was not the same. Because of what I had to do, it will never be the same, and I know that he'll never hold me again. He'll never treasure me, never regard me as precious again. To him, I've broken his heart for no reason by committing the ultimate betrayal. I've thrown his love away when all I wanted was to love and be loved in return.

Without meaning to, I clutch at Michael, hiding my face in his lapel.

My life sucks.

_Make me thrill as only you know how  
Sway me smooth, _

_Sway me now  
_

A tear rolls down my cheek and I sniffle, fighting against a sob that's trying so hard to burst free.

_I can't follow my heart, Grandma. _I close my eyes. _If I do, it'll mean the end of the world._

Does the end of _my _world count?

_Other dancers may be on the floor  
Dear, but my eyes will see only you_

"Jesus, Parker," I hear Michael grumble. I jerk back a bit, startled. "My dancing isn't _that_ bad."

I look up at him, trying to decipher the strange mix in his eyes. I hadn't meant to start weeping like this, in his arms. There's something weird going on with my face, I know, because his frown grows deeper, more troubled.

I throw my head back and laugh.

_Only you have that magic technique  
When we sway I go weak  
_

My cackles are loud and obnoxious, but I can't help myself. I'm toeing the line of hysteria and it feels wonderful.

People are starting to stare. I don't care, I just want to laugh and laugh until I've forgotten what sadness is.

_I can hear the sounds of violins  
Long before it begins_

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he asks. There is amusement in his tone and when I muffle my giggles with his chest, he doesn't complain.

Such a sweet boy.

I snort and another wave of humor strangles me. I can hardly breathe.

I feel an answering rumble bubbling up within him. "Very attractive, Parker," he chuckles.

"Hey," is my bumbling protest. I must sound insane. "I'm the prettiest martyr you know."

He stiffens and my cloudy brain registers my thoughtless words.

_Make me thrill as only you know how  
Sway me smooth, _

_Sway me now  
_

The song comes to a close, but Michael doesn't let me escape.

I'm not laughing anymore.

His eyes bore into mine. "What was that about?"

Oh, Michael. If I could confide in him, I would. A part of me wants to, nearly screams with the desire to.

But I can't, so I don't.

Instead, I stretch on the tips of my toes and plant a kiss on his cheek, swept away on a flight of whimsy. He's made me smile, _truly_ smile, when all I wanted to do was cry my heart out. We may never be the best of friends, or even _good_ friends, but Michael has kept my secrets before. I know I can trust him with my life, if it came down to it.

"Thank you," I say, beaming at him. I take the opportunity to slip away while he stands frozen, unprepared for my display of affection.

He really is a sweet boy.

_When marimba rhythms start to play  
Dance with me, _

_Make me sway_

A lot of time has passed since the eight of us went on that silly little adventure to Las Vegas. Now, there are only six of us. The whole group is torn and scarred in ways we can never recover from.

Alex is gone. His murderer, Tess, is light-years away, pregnant with Max's child.

Max says he loves me again. Says we can go back to the way we were.

Nothing will ever be the same, again.

I'm closing tonight, the Crash Down quiet but for the soft music pouring from the radio. I can hear the sound of Michael scraping the grill, the sound of a muttered curse here and there; I don't know why he doesn't just use his powers to expedite the process.

Nostalgic and lost, I can hear the sound of violins.

_Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore  
Hold me close, Sway me more  
_

I am distracted. Something tugs and twists in my chest, aching.

I trip over the mop and bucket, sliding across the floor in a tangled heap of limbs.

I don't bother getting up.

_Like a flower bending in the breeze  
Bend with me, _

_Sway with ease_

Summoned by the noise, Michael barges into the dining room. He finds me wailing and comes to crouch by my side, concerned and confused.

If I were not so broken, I would have found it rather funny.

"You okay, Parker?"

I shake my head, sitting back on my haunches. The cold, filthy water soaking into my uniform doesn't faze me. "No," I warble pathetically. I can't seem to stop crying. "Nothing's okay."

He says nothing, just staring.

I cry harder.

Slowly, Michael climbs to his feet and I'm almost glad that he will leave me alone to my misery. He has no obligation to hold me until I feel better, no reason to watch me as I crumble into tiny pieces all over the diner's floor. If I were him, I wouldn't want to be anywhere around my infectious gloom.

"Would you like to dance?"

_When we dance you have a way with me  
Stay with me, _

_Sway with me  
_

His words manage to halt my tears. I stare dumbly at his offered hand.

Is he joking?

Michael can't stand me. Why would he want to…?

I glance way up high and I find that his gaze is soft. Gentle. Kind.

I sniffle and take his hand.

_When marimba start to play  
Hold me close, _

_Make me sway_

I am filthy and wet and miserable. He is sweaty and covered in grease. I am too short and he's too tall, but it doesn't matter.

We're just a waitress and a fry cook, swaying together in the florescent lights of a tacky little café.

I am far from whole and far from okay, but right now, I am the closest I will ever be to complete.

_When we dance you have a way with me  
Stay with me, _

_Sway with me._


End file.
